On the Edge of Seventeen
by Dreemcatcher
Summary: Greg begins to realize why his coworkers are so adamant about not getting emotionally involved in cases. My first story so no flames please. Reviews always welcome and appreciated. Rated T for language and future dark content and imagrey.
1. Prologue

**On The Edge of Seventeen**

**Prologue**

"Today, we have gathered here to say our goodbyes. To someone who's life was taken too soon…"

Greg's focus began to trail away from the voice speaking as he tugged his coat closer to himself in a rather vain attempt to keep the bitter chill out. How had it come to this? How many times had that thought crossed his tormented mind in the past few days. Another icy gust of wind ruffled his deep brown hair and he shivered slightly as he tried to listen to the woman currently speaking. He didn't even know who she was. He turned his head slightly and shifted his gaze to the young woman standing to his left. Sara Sidle gave him a small reassuring smile of comfort and squeezed his arm gently. He found himself unable to meet her concerned gaze in fear of losing what little self control he still had so he brought his focus back to the front. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of another fellow CSI, Nick Stokes on his right. Nick was staring straight ahead, his mouth set in a straight line. Praying that if he stayed completely still, he could keep some form of composure. He barely noticed the woman stop speaking, or the small crowd of people beginning to move around him, slowly walking back down the hillside to waiting cars.

"Come on guys," Nick finally said in a slightly shaky voice, his breath pluming in small clouds in the cold crisp air, effectively breaking the heavy silence that had settled over their group as they all slowly made their way down the hill with the crowd "let's get to the car."

"You guys go ahead, I'll be there in a minute" Sara told Nick. He looked at her questioningly and she motioned with a slight nod of her head to Greg, who hadn't left his previous place at the top of the hill. Nick affirmed his understanding silently and watched for a moment as Sara made her way back to Greg before he turned to catch up with his waiting companions. Greg barely acknowledged Sara when she tugged gently at his arm, trying to get him to follow. He shook her off lightly without acknowledging her presence but when she made no move to leave he finally turned to look at her. Her normally bright eyes were rimmed with red from fallen tears and her brown hair was blowing lazily in the breeze. Sara's frown deepened and her brow creased with worry at Greg's stony and highly uncharacteristic behavior. Relenting, Greg finally sighed and offered her a tiny hint of a smile. It was barely even a shadow of the usual goofy grin that was normally plastered to his face but it was something all the same.

"Can you give me a minute? I'll be there in a bit." He said quietly, turning his attention back in front of him, his voice sounding raspy and slightly hoarse. Indeed, it was probably the first time he'd said anything in the past 3 days and the icy weather and countless tears that had been stoically chocked back couldn't have helped much. A little unnerved by not only the sound of his voice but the calm almost detached way that he'd said it, Sara took a cautious step closer instead of doing as requested.

"Are you sure you don't want me to wait with you?" Sara inquired gently, taking another small step closer to the young man before her. She was almost fearful of leaving him alone in this state but still, she couldn't say that she didn't understand his obvious state of distress. She stopped where she was, keeping a respectable amount of space between them. Greg could feel her approach him but he made no further signs of recognition to the movements.

"No it's fine, I'll be there in a minute." He said without looking up, he heard Sara sigh quietly but she said no more and he heard the quiet rustling of grass as she made her way to where their co-workers waited.

Greg's gaze rested on the wooden coffin that lay before his feet. Covered in flowers, it was somehow beautiful and serene, so much like its owner. Greg absentmindedly wiped at a few stray tears that had managed to escape with the back of his hand as he gazed at the box that held someone who was so full of life, so fearless, someone who would have, and should have, gone on to do great things.

"It's not fair." He whispered to no one, wiping more tears away and getting slightly upset at himself for breaking down now after days of trying to hold it back.

"She didn't deserve this, she should have lived." His voice was getting a little stronger. He knew everyone was waiting for him but he didn't care. He couldn't bring himself to tear his gaze from the gravesite. He had only known her for a few days, but in those few days he had grown to love and respect her more then words could describe. It sounded silly but it was true and he found that words couldn't describe it. Greg shoved his hands in his pockets to bring some heat back into them and he let his mind wander. Back to that day that seemed so long ago but was really only a week or so in passing. Back to the day where pure chance crossed his path with a girl who was wiser and stronger then he could have thought possible.

His boss Grissom, head of the graveyard shift, always said to him "stay objective, don't let things get personal." Over and over like a benediction and he'd always been inclined to agree. In his job he saw death every day and getting attached to every victim whose plea for justice came into his hands would most certainly kill him, or anyone for that matter. He saw brutal and cold blooded crimes in their aftermath all the time, heard countless horror stories and saw too many lives that were ended to early and he kept his face blank and stayed professional with minimal effort. But this time was different. This girl was different. Screw Grissom and his mantra, screw being professional, screw it all. She deserves more then a passing glance and a file that would be lost in the vast recesses of the CSI closed cases storerooms.

"She deserved to be remembered, to be missed, to be loved. But just because you deserve it, doesn't mean life will necessarily give it to you. She certainly didn't deserve death though. And yet that's what she got." Greg's voice was getting louder, bitterer, angrier. His fists clenched at his sides.

It made him angry, made him want to kick at something in frustration or make him curse life and fate and whatever else he could think of. But he didn't get angry, didn't fume or yell or hit. The only reaction he had was to crumple to the ground, cover his face with his hands and cry. Finally letting out days of pent up sorrow and grief, tears for the girl who was two days from turning 17, the girl who didn't even know to say goodbye.


	2. Everything Might Not be Fine

**Chapter 1**

**Everything Might Not be Fine**

"_Aubrey! Aubrey get in here now!" _

_An automatic mental recount of anything she could have possibly done wrong or forgotten to do today raced through her mind as she felt the usual jump in her pulse and flutter of fear in her stomach. _

"_Aubrey, where the fuck are you, I said now!" She cringed as she hauled herself off the mattress that served as her bed and made her way into the cluttered living room, knowing that the longer she took the angrier her father would get and she was hoping to end what had been a fairly good day in her book with minimal confrontation. She stepped over a few empty beer bottles that lay scattered in the hallway and walking into the living room silently, stopping just in front of an old armchair. Its inhabitant was as tall, well built man in his early 40s. In one hand, Jack Foster held a small crystal ornament that her brother Mark had bought her a week ago with some money he'd earned doing some odd jobs around town and his other hand drummed impatiently on the arm of the chair. He could have been called handsome had his features not been slightly contorted in silent rage. Upon noticing Aubrey's presence, he rose to his feet and moved slowly towards her, brandishing the object at her._

"_Want to tell me what the hell this is?" he said quietly, deadly calm. Aubrey took a deep breath to calm the rapid racing of her heart and tried to think clearly. She didn't want to get Mark in trouble but she didn't know what else she could say and she knew her inability to answer was infuriating him. Indeed when his inquiry was met with only an uncertain silence his sneer grew deeper and before Aubrey could blink she had received a swift smack to her right cheek. _

"_Answer me when I'm talking to you" Jack growled as he stopped his advance a few inches away from her holding the small ornament aloft once more "I asked you what the hell this is." Face smarting slightly from the assault, Aubrey willed her voice to stay strong and tried to stop her body from shaking._

"_I..um…it's nothing, just a little glass trinket…"_

"_I found it in your room. I don't remember seeing this before. Where did you get it?" The quiet menace in his voice would have probably been missed by most but it certainly wasn't lost on Aubrey. She gulped, unsure of how to answer. _

"_I bought it a few days ago." For a moment she felt relief at coming up with a coherent answer but it was short lived. It wasn't until the words had left her mouth that Aubrey realized her error. Silently, she prayed that it would go by unnoticed but apparently luck wasn't with her today._

"_You have no money. Did you steal this you little thief? Am I going to get the fucking police knocking on my door?" He snarled, resuming his advances. _

"_No…no, I didn't steal any-…." _

"_Don't talk back to me! So now you've taken to stealing things have you? And I bet you planned on selling this like the dirty little lowlife that you are." He had backed Aubrey up against the wall and she pressed herself against it, willing it to eat her into it, absorb her, anything to get her out of here. _

"_I didn't steal it! I didn't do anything like that…I just…" She received another slap to her face and this time she didn't bother trying to stifle the whimper that it brought out. _

"_I said don't talk back to me!" he yelled, his face dangerously close to hers, his hand still poised to strike again. His other still gripped the glass object tightly, his eyes blazing with rage. "You are a filthy thief and you don't deserve this," he brought the ornament to her eyelevel before hurling it at the scuffed wood floor where it shattered with loud crash "you don't deserve anything and you never will. You will never amount to anything and people won't even stop to spit on you." He shoved her roughly and she fell to the floor, narrowly missing the sharp shards of broken crystal. A beat of silence, penetrated only by heavy breathing followed before Jack straightened and strode from the room, pausing as he was about to walk through the door. _

"_Clean that mess up and stay out of my sight." Were his final words before he opened the door and walked out of the house, slamming the door behind him. _

_Shaking and still breathing heavily, Aubrey tried to stand but her legs were wobbling so badly that she abruptly crumpled back to the floor in a heap. She tried to take deep breaths and calm the tremors in her body but to little avail. She finally settled for drawing her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs and burying her head in her arms, rocking slightly. She didn't know how long she sat there in silence but after minutes or hours she heard the door open quietly and she tensed immediately, fearing a second attack. Too afraid to lift her head and look, she braced for the feel of cold hands attacking her again, whimpering softly as the sound of footsteps slowly approached her. But the hands that touched her were different, gentle and comforting. Large, warm hands that gently moved up her arms to her shoulders and gently shook her, checking to see if she was conscious. She finally chanced a glance upward. Concerned, worried eyes met hers and she managed a weak smile of relief. It was only Mark, her brother and the only bit of light in the dark hellhole that was currently her life. His own look of relief was obvious when he saw her respond but it quickly melted into a frown when he saw the forming bruises that Jack's slaps had left on Aubrey's face. Gently brushing his fingers over the swollen flesh, Mark let out a worried sigh as Aubrey watched him silently. _

"_What'd he say this time?" Mark finally asked quietly, after making sure there was no damage done that needed immediate attention. He wished he could say that this was the first, or even on of the few, times that he'd come home to find his sister bruised and battered in the wake of another argument or accusation. The very thought of what their father had done to Aubrey on one occasion or the other sent Mark's blood to boiling. He had tried to protect her as best he could but Jack found ways to force Mark out of the house, leaving Aubrey alone with him so he could push her around without interruption. His latest threat being that if Mark didn't get a day job, he'd throw him out and Mark would much rather it be him being home sometimes then him not being able to be near Aubrey at all. Still, he knew perfectly well what his little sister had to endure while he was gone and it nearly killed him, knowing that he was powerless to do a damn thing about it. Mark couldn't risk upsetting their father, because if he did, that anger got taken out on Aubrey. Mark had learned that the hard way and the memories still wracked him with guilt. _

"_Aubrey?" He inquired gently, soothingly, when his question was met with silence. Her only response however was to move closer and bury her face into his shoulder, shaking her head as she did. He didn't have to see her face to know that she was crying, the shaking shoulders were a telltale sign. He sighed quietly, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. He would wait until she'd calmed down before trying to figure out what happened. _

_Aubrey was thankful that Mark didn't push the subject and try to get her to talk about it. It wasn't that she didn't trust Mark, hell he was probably the only person she trusted. She just couldn't bring herself to talk about it right now. The minute she heard the deep concern in his voice, the tears started. Ashamed of this obvious sign of weakness, even if it was only in front of Mark, she couldn't do anything but move closer and bury her face into his shoulder, comforted enormously by his embrace. She felt safe here, in his arms. She knew no matter how mad her father got, no matter what he thought of her, she was safe when Mark was there. And for a brief moment she could believe that everything was going to be fine….safe in Mark's arms……everything would be fine….. _

"Hey, HEY!"

Aubrey's head snapped up and she immediately regretted this action as all that she got was an eyeful of extremely bright, sharp sunlight. Lifting her hand to her face, trying to block out some of the brilliant brightness, she squinted up at the person standing over her.

"What?" She said, a bit irritated at being disturbed. She'd been walking for two days now with no sleep, no food and very on edge nerves and she'd finally found what looked like a safe and out of sight alley to sit down and here was this bum trying to bother her.

"You're on my property kid, now scram!" The man was filthy and smelled just as bad as he looked. Aubrey was tempted to leave just to get away from the stench but her desire to get lost in her own thoughts (something she found herself to be doing quite frequently lately) overpowered her nostril's wishes of escape.

"Kid I'm giving you 10 seconds to get the hell outta my alley before I call the cops on you, now beat it!"

"Alright, Jesus, take your fucking alleyway." Aubrey pulled herself to her feet, much to her aching muscle's protest and made her way back onto the street.

'Fucking hobos' she cursed inwardly as she made her way slowly down the strip. It was broad daylight and packed so she figured she was fairly safe for the moment and she allowed her thoughts to wander back to where they were before the slight disruption. That had been a particularly bad fight. She only remembered bits and pieces though, she'd only been 14 when that happened. 4 long years had gone by since then. Things had only seemed to get worse after that and finally, almost 2 years later they'd had enough. Mark spent weeks planning, scraping together what little money he had and they both escaped. Fled to Sin City where they figured Jack would never be able to find them and life was cheap. For over a year they survived on bare necessities and they managed. It was a far cry from a glamorous or even comfortable lifestyle but for the time being they were safe. Then came a day where Mark had gone to work at a local, small grocery store bagging groceries leaving Aubrey to wander the streets as she often did during the day. She couldn't exactly remember the details of what happened. All she recalled was feeling like she was being followed, a sharp blow to the back of her head then blackness. When she woke up, she was in a room she didn't recognize, staring blearily into a face she'd never wanted to see again. For 6 months life went back to how it was before her and Mark ran away, only worse because there was no one there to offer her comfort and hope this time. 6 long months and she couldn't deny repeated thoughts of just ending it, ending her pain once and for all. But constant thoughts of Mark and seeing him again kept her going, kept her strong.

Mark. She needed to find him. She just had to. He needed to know that she was alright. Much like her brother had 2 years ago, she spent weeks planning and she too escaped while her father was drunk and passed out in his room with some sleazy woman he'd no doubt picked up in some bar. It had taken her the better part of 3 days to make her way back but now she was here and the only thought on her mind was reuniting with Mark. She spent the rest of the day wandering aimlessly, letting her feet take her where they wanted, all the time keeping her eyes open for any sign of Mark.

'He probably thinks I'm dead.' Aubrey thought bitterly 'that is if he's even alive himself…' Immediately she mentally slapped herself, horrified by the thought. She refused to even entertain such an absurd possibility. Mark was alive, she knew it. He had to be.

'It's been almost 6 months since you last saw him. You don't know that.' Try as she might, she couldn't seem to force the little nagging voice out of her mind.

She finally stopped and forced her mind back to the present finding herself in a slightly less flashy area on the edge of a parking lot surrounded by a small grove of trees. It was starting to get dark out and she knew she'd better find somewhere out of sight to sleep. Just because she had escaped, didn't mean she was anywhere near safe. He would have figured out she was missing by now and he would know where she was headed. As big of a jerk as he was, Aubrey knew her father was far from stupid. Stumbling through the small parking lot, she tripped over a curb and fell into a black SUV parked next to it. She tried to pull herself back to her feet but found it a rather difficult task to accomplish, what with having gone two days without sleep or food. It was hard to notice when she was moving but now that she'd slowed down, it hit her how incredibly tired and dizzy she felt. Deciding to attempt standing one more time, she grabbed hold of the car door latch for leverage and pulled. Much to her shock, she heard a click and the door swung open nearly sending her flying.

'Their fault they forgot to lock the car door…' It was against every bit of common sense and good judgment she had in her but the soft leather backseat looked extremely inviting and Aubrey found herself hauling her body into the backseat and she pulled the door shut behind her.

'I'll just sleep for a few minutes, then I'll go and no one will be the wiser' she assured herself as she curled up in the backseat and immediately felt her eyelids sagging closed. She figured this probably wasn't the best idea in the world but the prospect of sleep was far too overpowering.

'Everything will be fine…I'll find Mark and everything will be fine….' With that passing thought, Aubrey fell into a deep sleep that lasted long after darkness flooded the car as night fell. Indeed she still slept on as the faint pink tinge of dawn lined the horizon. She slept on peacefully as a young man approached the car, bidding his companion goodbye as he climbed into the car, stowing a silver field kit in the front seat next to him. When the spiky haired man spotted her in the rearview mirror as he prepared to back out, his loud yell of surprise and slight fear was what finally brought her back to consciousness.


	3. Wakeup Call

Hey guys. Sorry for the two weeks without updates. School and rehearsals are getting the best of my time I guess but I've finally dragged my ass out of bed long enough to write. ;-) Anyways, here's chapter 2 and I'm already working on 3 so that should be up soon. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing, it makes my day! Constructive criticism is always welcome.

Chapter 2

Wakeup Call

"_Greg_,"

'5 more minutes;' a slight shove this time.

"_Greg!_"

'Go the hell away.'

"_That's it….fine you want me to get mean about it?_" Nothing more then a snore from the comfortable sleeper. Greg smiled slightly in his sleep and nuzzled his head deeper into his arms, thankful that the pestering voice had finally shut up. And now back to a nice relaxing nap…..

'_Splash'_

"Aghhh cold, freaking COLD!" Greg all but fell off the couch as a glass of icy water made direct contact with his head and neck. His flying jerky motions sent him sprawling to the floor where he landed hard on his ass, glaring up at the smirking woman hovering over him with an empty glass with a few stray ice cubes stuck to the bottom.

"Sara, what the hell was that for?" The young CSI's smirk just widened as she bit off the urge to laugh hysterically at the sight before her. Greg's already messy brown hair stood up in drenched spikes while more water dripped down his nose and forehead giving him the appearance of a drowned rat.

"You wouldn't wake up I told you I was going to get mean about it. You brought this on yourself." She could barely contain the laughter now as Greg's scowl deepened and he pulled himself to his feet, gingerly pulling his soaked T-shirt away from his chest.

"Besides, in case you didn't realize, you fell asleep in Grissom's office and I figure you didn't want your ass getting kicked tonight if he found you snoozing on his couch."

Greg looked around the room and sure enough he was in Grissom's small but impeccably neat and organized office with its shelves of specimen jars and rows of textbooks on the bugs he loved so much. 'Yeesh, I must have been really tired.' he mused to himself as he pushed some of his drenched hair off his forehead and looked around. He had just finished a particularly gruesome crime scene that had taken him the better part of the last sleepless week to work on. They had finally tracked down their guy and he had stumbled back into HQ before heading home to let Grissom know. He supposed he must have fallen asleep waiting for Grissom to come back.

Sara watched him look around the office with a slightly bemused and out of it expression on his face and she smiled slightly. She knew that Greg and Nick had had a particularly rough week and she didn't really blame him for being tired. His eyes finally stopped on the couch where he saw splashes of water from Sara's little wakeup call. It seemed to return to him that he too was soaked and he turned back to Sara.

"True I don't want my ass kicked, but you didn't have to throw water at me." When Sara remained unmoved by his intended murderous glare (which wasn't all that murderous) he decided on another tact for sympathy. Sorrow. Greg hunched his shoulders slightly and wilted into himself, giving Sara the most pitiful look of sadness he could muster.

"Aw poor baby," she said with mock sympathy, giving him a pat on the head to which he whimpered and deepened his pout. They both stared at one another for a minute before Sara finally broke into peels of laughter, causing Greg to scowl deeper.

"I'm sorry you just look so sad...and pathetic. Seriously, I'm sorry I threw water at you but now you know to wake up next time I tell you to. And stop whimpering like that its just water. Be glad I didn't go find one of Grissom's blood experiments and throw _that _at you. Now go home already, you looked exhausted." Sara managed to calm her laughing jag as Greg nodded his assent and started for the door. Right before leaving the office though, he turned around to Sara with a hint of that mischievous grin crossing his features.

"You're right, I'm going home. But while I'm gone, have fun explaining to Grissom how water stains ended up all over his leather couch." With that, Greg made his quick exit before Sara could say anything but as he walked down the hallway he felt something suspiciously like a balled up piece of paper hit him squarely in the back. Yawning, he slouched through the maze of aquamarine hallways that made up the CSI lab and HQ. As he walked, he glanced through the many glass walls that separated the different areas of the lab. In the AV lab he saw their head tech and geek galore Archie fiddling with one of his many complex machines while another one of his co-workers, Warrick Brown watched over his shoulder. Both seemed too wrapped up in their work to notice his passing so he moved on. Past the break room where Catherine and Nick were drinking coffee and chatting, taking a well deserved break after the closing of their cases. They both looked up as Greg walked by, giving him odd looks as he looked like he'd just climbed out of a swimming pool fully clothed. Greg just smiled and mouthed 'Sara' to which the two chuckled over their coffee and waved him off as he walked to the locker room to retrieve his things. Experience and a few rather nasty episodes had taught him to never wear his good clothes on the job and so he managed to change back into his street clothes and paper towel dry his hair a bit before grabbing his kit out of his locker and make his way to the parking lot.

Stepping outside, Greg took a deep breath of the cool morning air to wake himself up. It was probably around 6:00AM or so and what he needed right now was a hot shower and a long nap before work tonight. Just as he was starting to set off, he heard footsteps behind him and Nick came through the glass doors to join him.

"I was heading out too, figured I'd be a gentleman and escort you to your car." He made a mock bow and grinned at Greg who couldn't help but smile in return. Nick had always had a way of cheering someone up. He wasn't peppy or perky but there was always something in his warm brown eyes and kind smile that seemed to make people feel better.

"Aw, how sweet of you," Greg played along as they both laughed good naturedly and set off towards their cars.

"Sorry to hear about your little Water Worlds episode." Nick smirked gesturing towards Greg's still damp hair. "Now you know not to mess with Sara when she wants you to do something." He grimaced slightly at this "I learned that the hard way."

Greg chuckled as they reached his car, a black Tahoe issued to all CSIs. Nick gave him a firm pat on the shoulder and headed off to his own Tahoe parked halfway across the lot. Greg fiddled around in his pocket for his keys, balancing his field kit on his knee as he did so. Finally coming up triumphant, he inserted the key into the lock only to find that it locked the doors with a 'click' when he did.

'That's weird, guess I forgot to lock the door last night….' Greg mused as he slid into the drivers seat and settled his kit in the passenger seat beside him. He sighed and rubbed his eyes in an attempt to wake himself up for the ride home. Greg started the engine and turned up the radio, K-Earth 101, classic rock, always a good wake-up tune for the 15 min drive back to his apartment. Adjusting his seat a bit he turned to adjust the rearview mirror a little.

The rearview mirror had revealed a young woman curled up in the backseat of his car, apparently either unconscious or in a deep sleep looking decidedly disheveled and ragged. Greg let out a scream that he was sure could be heard clear back in the Autopsy suite and the girl jolted awake, lurching upright with a hoarse gasp.


End file.
